


Satisfaction

by kronette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-11
Updated: 2010-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Total, total crack. Shameful misuse of random movie quotes. Bad innuendo. Gratuitous mention of Misha's Minions.  I made a list of things that would happen in the finale, and of course NONE OF THEM DID. So, here they are, presented in crack!form, in a sort-of story-like thing. I incorporated this into the basic storyline of 5x22. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction

Every fiber of Dean’s being screamed _wrong wrong wrong,_ but he went along with Sam’s plan anyway. They were out of choices. The world would be hacked away bit by bit with Lucifer in his current vessel, and he and Sam would be hounded, by demons and angels alike, until they said ‘yes’.  


When push shoved, Dean gave in and watched in sick fascination as Crowley appeared before their little group with five demons tied to him.

No, literally. They were _tied to him_ , thick collars around their necks with leads going straight into Crowley’s left hand, which he held delicately aloft as though he was the Queen of England or some crap.

“One ‘all-you-can-stomach’ demon buffet, ready and awaiting the chef,” Crowley murmured, sounding entirely too much like the smug demon he was.

“Crap, Crowley, did you have to do…that?” Dean indicated the cluster of demons who were actually _groveling at Crowley’s feet_.

Crowley looked hurt. His mouth curled into a frown and his arm fell to his side. “They’re my legion. They do my bidding. I may be on the run from Lucifer, but I still have minions.”

“Which is it?” Cas asked from his perch at the table, his eyes wary as he watched the demon.

“Which is what?” Crowley asked impatiently as he passed off the leash to Sam, who looked like he couldn’t decide whether to smile or hurl.

Cas had the ‘impassive face’ down pat, but Dean swore he caught the angel’s lips quirking in a smile. Just for a split second. “Minions or legion. Which are they?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Oh, for hell’s sake.” He looked he didn’t care and picked one at random: “Minions. Happy?” the demon snapped.

“Extremely,” Cas replied with a sigh, and Dean would _never_ understand angel humor.

“Did you need help with the carving?” Crowley asked Sam, his voice entirely too eager.

Sam’s gaze flicked to Dean, who shrugged. Dean had no intention of sullying his hands with demon blood (again). That was all Sam.

Sam looked to Crowley and shrugged. “Sure,” he drawled, eyes back on Dean, who made ‘shooing’ motions with his hands.

Through all this, Bobby had stood next to Cas – just standing. He was so damn happy to be on his feet that he couldn’t _stop_ being on his feet.

“You want to watch the show?” Dean asked with a flick of his thumb in Sam and Crowley’s direction.

Bobby didn’t flicker an eyelash, his poker face was that good. “Sure. Let me mosey on in there to give the boys a hand.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he swore he saw more than a spring in Bobby’s step – was the man actually _skipping_? He shook his head. The Apocalypse was too fucking weird.

Cas let out a soft sigh that drew Dean’s attention. “What’s up, Cas?” he asked as he turned a chair around and straddled it.

Cas leaned forward with his elbow on the table and his head propped up by his fist. “Time has run out and this is The End.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dean snarled quietly.

Cas shot him a _look_. “Do you deny that this plan is foolish and has almost zero chance of succeeding?”

Dean drummed his fingers on the table quickly, then clenched his hand in a fist when he realized what he was doing. “No, can’t deny that,” he murmured as his chin settled on the top of his arm, which rested on the back of the chair. “It just sucks, you know? Everyone out there is going about their lives, not realizing that in a day or two, everything’s going to hell.  


Cas straightened at that. “Not everyone is going to Hell, Dean. The Rapture will save those who believe and have faith.”  


Dean didn’t miss a beat. “So, aside from lottery winners, everyone transfers down to Hell and…what?” His gaze flicked to Cas’. “What actually happens? Do you know?”  


Cas shook his head and looked forlorn. “I was not privy to such information. Only the archangels have such knowledge. And God.”  


A yelled, “Gross!” shook the walls of the crap cabin they were holed up in, and Dean swung his leg around the chair to stand. “Sounds like Sammy’s having some issues with cleaning the fish for dinner.”  


Cas’ forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Crowley brought no fish; only the demons.”  


Dean opened his mouth to explain his attempt at bad fish-gutting humor, but just pulled Cas to his feet. “Come on. If I’m getting dirty, so are you.” He _knew_ , absolutely _knew_ , he’d caught a flare of hope in Cas’ eyes before it died away as they stepped into the room with five demons now hanging by their feet over a Devil’s trap.  


Crowley looked gleeful as he sliced down the vein in one of the demon’s arms, opening it wide and sending blood gushing to the funnel beneath it.  


Sam looked green as he flexed his hand around his knife handle, his other hand holding a demon’s arm steady.  


Dean rolled his eyes, took the knife from Sam and shoved him aside. “You can gnaw on a demon’s neck to drink blood but you can’t cut a vein?” he scoffed as he gripped the demon’s elbow, straightened out its arm and sliced clean through the vein down to the wrist.  


He heard Crowley whistle in appreciation. “Nice.”  


Dean wasn’t doing it for compliments. He opened the vein on the remaining demon, drawing another impressed sound from Crowley. “You are a talented boy.”  


Dean had Ruby’s knife in his hand and at Crowley’s throat before the demon even finished its sentence. “Never, ever call me ‘boy’. Got it?”  


Crowley didn’t look flustered, though his cheeks were flushed. “Kinky, too. Oh, you do have many,” Crowley paused to rake his eyes over Dean, “Talents.”  


The knife faltered at Crowley’s neck and Dean took a step back and cleared his throat. He didn’t look anyone in the eye, because that was – Crowley was –just _no_. He felt strange and blamed it on the cloying scent of all the blood. “I’ll be back in five to help carry the jugs to the car.  


“Are you sure they’ll be drained in five minutes?” Bobby called after him.

Dean walked out as if he didn’t hear him, muttering under his breath, “Lots of things you learn in Hell.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The drive to Detroit was completed in silence, only the low sound of the radio disturbed it. Dean drove around until Sam grunted, indicating that he’d found a wifi hot spot. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in a nervous gesture, his eyes darting over to Sam occasionally until he got a direction and pulled out into the sparse traffic again.

It was odd to see such a large city mostly deserted, but Detroit wasn’t known for its stellar nightlife. Dean followed his brother’s directions until he could see the changes for himself: clusters of people all facing toward one building, just standing haphazard all over the road. Dean had no choice but to pull over, Bobby pulling up behind him.

He heard Bobby’s whistle as they all exited their cars and stared at the scene before them. “Guess we found him,” Bobby stated unnecessarily.

Dean walked to the back of the Impala and popped the trunk.

Sam glanced at the jugs, then at Dean, then the jugs again. “Uh, guys, you may not want to stick around for this.”

“Dude, we just exsanguinated five demons and _now_ you want to protect our delicate sensibilities?” Dean shook his head and shoved a jug of blood at his brother. “Drink up, you sissy.”

Just as Sam lifted the first jug to his mouth, he gasped as if he were in pain. Dean was at his side in a heartbeat. “Sammy?”

Sam clutched at his chest, eyes impossibly wide. “Dean,” he breathed, dropping the blood onto the concrete as he dug underneath his shirt, revealing the amulet that could sense God’s presence. It was glowing and Sam hissed as his skin touched it.

“Cas!” Dean yelled as he stared at the necklace he’d worn most of his life, now _glowing in God’s presence_ , and felt really, really pissed off. He turned to ask Cas something, but the angel wasn’t at his side. Confused, he looked around and spotting Cas kneeling next to Bobby’s car, his face euphoric and glowing slightly, too.

“God is here,” Cas whispered, his voice so full of joy it nearly made Dean sick.

“The Bastard picked a hell of a time to show up. Where are You?” Dean shouted as he looked at the huddles of people, but none seemed to pay them any attention. “Hey, God! I’m talking to You. Get Your ass over here and –“

He clamped his mouth shut as a small woman appeared before him, her eyes even more intense than Cas’, and put a finger to his lips. Her long dark hair didn’t move out of place as she walked over to Cas and touched his face lightly.

The sound that escaped Cas’ mouth sounded pornographic to Dean and he would have chuckled, if that sound hadn’t gone straight to his cock. He gasped at the suddenness of his erection, surprised he could even get one with everything going on, but hey, God made an appearance after all, so all bets were off.

“Forgive me, Father,” Cas begged shamelessly as he hung his head. Dean felt Cas’ deep shock at being in God’s presence, but it was a different organ that filled this time. His heart warmed as Cas’ face lit up and the words tumbled out of his mouth, “Thank you, Father, thank you.”

Cas’ face was undeniably, completely orgasmic as God touched Her hand to his head. The sudden explosion of light and Cas’ scream startled Dean into covering his own head, unsure what was going on. One thing he knew; if God had smote Cas, then Dean was going to have to give a _serious_ beat-down on Her ass.

When the light died down, Dean poked his head out from under his arm and saw Cas holding himself off the ground with one arm, panting hard. “Cas!” he cried, and was on his knees helping the angel to his feet in seconds. He started to check for injuries, when he noticed Cas’ face.

Cas was _smiling_. Wide, bright, elated and just this side of whacky. “I have been granted grace.”

Dean didn’t even pretend to know what Cas was talking about. “Okay.”

Cas shook his head and though it seemed impossible, smiled _harder_. “God has forgiven my transgressions. She has restored my place in the Host.” Nope, Dean was wrong; Cas could smile even _more_. “I can hear the Host. I can go home.”

Home. Back to heaven and away from him. Dean schooled his features into a mask that didn’t let any of his emotions show. “That’s fantastic, Cas.”

“It is truly a gift I could never have imagined,” Cas babbled away, but Dean wasn’t listening. His heart was growing heavier and he wasn’t sure why. His gaze wandered over to Sam, who was staring dumbfounded at God as She stroked a finger along the still-glowing amulet.

Her eyes flicked between Sam and Dean, _knowing_ glances, then She placed Her hand against Sam’s chest and he recoiled about five feet.

“Sam!” Dean didn’t even realize he’d screamed Sam’s name until he was at his brother’s side, helping him sit up. Sam was crying, tears just falling down his face, but Dean couldn’t see any blood or bones sticking out. “Talk to me, Sammy,” he begged.

Sam shook his head, as if it was the only thing he could do. “Thank you,” he whispered, and God nodded Her head at him.

“What’d She do?” Dean asked as he helped Sam to his feet.

“Forgave me.”

Dean was getting really pissed off, now. “Forgave you. For what; starting the Apocalypse?”

“For using my powers. For being weak.”

“And _not_ for starting the Apocalypse,” Dean finished with a sigh when it was clear that Sam wasn’t going to say any more.

Dean didn’t even bother going over to Bobby as God touched his arm and he bowed his head. Whatever he’d done, Bobby had obviously been forgiven, too.

When God made Her way over to him, Dean glared down at Her and folded his arms. “I’m not so easily forgiven, am I?” he taunted. “I’ve been to Heaven and Hell, I’ve sold my soul and killed hundreds of evil sons of bitches. Bet you don’t know what to make of me.”

“Dean,” Cas whispered urgently. “Don’t mock God.”

“Why not?” he shrugged, still staring at Her. “She wasn’t around when the shit started with mom and dad back when they first met. She wasn’t here when Sammy was killed, or Dad sold his soul for me, or Ellen and Jo died, or Caleb or Pastor Jim or Pamela or Ash or any of the hundreds of people we couldn’t save.” He was breathing hard, so worked up he started to see stars. “Where were You, huh? Why did You let all that crap happen? Why did you let Your precious angels start the Apocalypse? Why didn’t You stop it?”

“Even God gets tired,” Cas stated in awe. Dean met Cas’ gaze, which was wide and a little afraid. “She can’t speak. Her voice is more powerful than an angel’s.” Cas licked his lips and nodded. “And She _was_ there, but She knows you won’t believe Her.”

God did look worn down, now that he really looked at Her. Mouth drawn tight, eyes tired, shoulders slumped. God looked – like a girl who got dumped on prom night, a little bit.

A gasp strangled itself out of Cas’ mouth and Dean’s hand was on his shoulder as the angel stumbled back a step. “God did bring me back, and She did save you from Lucifer. It is up to us to stop him. God –“ he turned to look at Dean, terrified and awed and freaking him the hell _out._ “God has faith in us. Free will is how Lucifer will be stopped.”

“So – all this was Her plan all along?” Dean swept his arm to the side, encompassing the street, Detroit, and the entire world. “Us four against the Devil. And we win.”

Cas was frighteningly intense, back in warrior of God mode. “All of God’s works have meaning. So shall this.”

“Aw, Cas, don’t start with the crap again. I thought I trained that out of you.”

“You cannot take the angel out of the man,” Cas said, as if that made any sense.

“What?” he asked, exasperated, but then waved a hand and shook his head. “You know what? Never mind. I just want this done. I want my life back. I want the Apocalypse done and gone. So how do we do it?” he addressed God with raised eyebrows. “Does Sam get powered-up like a Mario Brothers’ mushroom and shove the Devil back in his cage? Do we stab Lucifer with the angel sword? Do we ask him nicely to go back to Hell?”

He took a step back as God moved toward him. He eyed God’s hand as it rose to his forehead, and then all he knew was blackness.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Dean stood next to Sam as they faced Lucifer. Sam was pumped with energy, even Dean could feel it, and he barely flinched as Sam said, “Ye—.”

Sam’s voice was cut off as he was thrown against a wall and knocked unconscious. Dean calmly turned back to Lucifer, no longer Dean, but Michael. “He will not say yes. I won’t let him.”

Lucifer sneered. “Michael. How long have you been hiding in that meatsuit?”

Michael shrugged Dean’s shoulders. “A few months. It’s been claustrophobic,” he seemed to add as an afterthought. Then he glared at his long-lost brother again. “It’s time for you to return to Hell, Lucifer.”

Lucifer threw out an arm and sent Michael flying across the room near where Sam lay. “ _Make_ me,” Lucifer taunted.

Michael ignored the crumbling wall behind him as he strode over to Lucifer, hand outstretched. He chanted quickly, opening the portal to Hell behind Lucifer on the floor. Then he started to push. He called on every reserve he had, he called on the Host for support, he even used Dean’s love for Sam and _shoved_ , slowly sliding Lucifer toward the hole. He felt his skin split, he felt his bones breaking where he stood, but he held fast. He had a job to do and he was going to finish it. Lucifer halted at the edge and Michael just didn’t have the extra energy to give him the final push. “Father, help me,” he begged, but didn’t feel a change as his muscles strained and his vessel weakened. Lucifer took a step forward; a step away from the Pit.

He felt _helpless_ inside him, knowing it was Dean, knowing that this was their only chance. Michael _had_ to defeated Lucifer; he _had_ to. Then, a surge of power joined his to his right and Lucifer reacted as though he’d been punched on the jaw. With a cry, Lucifer fell backward into the Pit and Michael quickly chanted it closed.

Michael slowly fell to his knees and offered up his thanks to Father for helping him.

“Father would not interfere,” said a voice from beside him; Castiel. The other angel was lying in a quickly growing pool of blood – his vessel’s blood. Castiel was wrecked more than Michael was, and it wasn’t just his vessel. He could sense Castiel fading from his presence; the angel was dying. “I assisted you with all the strength I possessed.”

“Why?” Michael asked, feeling the slow burn of his vessel’s healing thrum through him. At Castiel’s frown, Michael looked down at his vessel. “For him?”

Castiel stretched out his hand toward Michael, but couldn’t hope to breach the distance from where he lay on the floor. “Yes.”

Michael read everything Castiel was, everything he was meant to be, and sighed. “You were not supposed to die here. Father will not be pleased.”

“Father will be pissed,” Castiel corrected as his eyes began to dim. “I am prepared for what awaits me.”

“Nothing awaits you, Castiel,” Michael declared softly as he felt the last essence that was Castiel fade away.

Dean heaved a breath and sat up, hands checking his chest for wounds that weren’t there. He was surrounded by white – white _everything_ , and began to panic. How did he end up in heaven again?

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas voice caused him to twist sideways and stare blankly at the angel.

He scrambled to his feet but kept looking around him, a freakout beginning to form. “Did I just send Lucifer back to hell? Was that _Michael_ in me?” He paused and stared at the angel. “Wait, did you just _die_?”

Cas sighed deeply. “God is – planning, Dean. I regret that I cannot interfere, but you must endure until God is satisfied.”

He gaped. “Until _God_ is satisfied? With what? That She got the right ending?”

Cas sighed again and began to fade into the whiteness. “Yes.”

=-=-=-=-=-=

The slaughter – Dean refused to even think of it as a fight – continued behind them as he, Sam and Bobby ran for the Impala. Cas was somewhere in the fray, doing what he could to hold the demons at bay. Which wasn’t much; without the angelic ability to send demons back to hell with a touch, Cas was a target blazing in the dark.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Dean mumbled under his breath as he cranked the key and floored the gas, tires spitting gravel and dirt as he took off as fast as she would go. He didn’t get a hundred feet before a line of demons stood in his path. He gritted his teeth and ignored Sam’s snapped, “ _Go_ ,” as he punched the gas and drove straight into the blockade.

Unfortunately, the car didn’t know about demon strength and to Dean’s horror, she was _picked up in mid-skid_. The demons were just – holding the car aloft as the tires spun on air.

Bobby cranked down the back window and started shooting rock salt, but for each demon he hit, another would take its place beside the car.

Dean and Sam joined him in the shooting, but soon a swarm of black-eyed sons of bitches surrounded the car as far as Dean could see.

He echoed Sam’s “We’re so _screwed_ ,” as he finally put down his spent weapon. It wasn’t doing any good, anyway.

Then the demons parted and Lucifer strode through with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Boys! How nice to see you again.” Lucifer walked right up to the car and looked Dean straight in the eye.

“Go to Hell already, would you?” Dean pleaded, wiping his face with his hand. He was so damned tired that he’d try anything, even asking nicely. Absolutely nothing could surprise him, anymore.

Lucifer pulled a mock-hurt expression and tsked. “There’s no need to be rude. I’m only here to return something you dropped back on the field.”

Dean’s gaze snapped to movement behind Lucifer, and even Sam’s horrified gasp and Bobby’s uttered, “Shit,” couldn’t encompass what Dean was seeing.

Cas was being held by three, maybe four demons. It was hard to tell with how bloody Cas was. All that darkness blended together, but Cas was struggling violently against his captors. “Do nothing. Say nothing. I’ll be fine.”

Lucifer looked at the car’s occupants and stage-whispered, “No, he really won’t.”

Dean really, _really_ wanted to punch the smirk off Lucifer’s face, but found he couldn’t move. A glance at Sam confirmed it was the same for him.

Lucifer continued as if they were having afternoon tea or some shit. “Do you know what happens when an angel goes to Hell, Dean? They become just like me.” Before Dean could react in any way, Lucifer turned and placed his hand on Cas’ forehead and muttered under his breath.

With an inhuman wail filled with torment, Cas vanished.

Lucifer chuckled.

Dean heaved a breath and sat up, his stomach twisted in knots. Oh, God, _Cas_. “You bastard!” he screamed, though Lucifer wasn’t in front of him, anymore. _Nothing_ was in front of him, anymore. He was surrounded by white – white _everything_ , and began to panic. How did he end up in heaven again?

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas’ mournful voice caused him to twist sideways and stare blankly at the angel.

He scrambled to his feet but kept his gaze locked on Cas, unable to believe he’d escaped from Lucifer’s spell. “What’s going on, Cas? Did Lucifer send you to hell?”

Cas shrugged helplessly. “God is – planning, Dean. I regret that I cannot interfere, but you must endure until God is satisfied.”

He gaped. “Until _God_ is satisfied? With what? That She got the right ending?”

Cas sighed and began to fade into the whiteness. “Yes.”

=-=-=-=-=-=

Having a demon fighting on your side in the Apocalypse wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Crowley delighted every time one of the good guys got tossed around or started spilling blood. And he was damn _unhelpful_ when it came to sending demons back to hell. He shooed them away, or snarled at them, but at least when he touched them they suddenly went still and didn’t move again.

Dean, Sam and Bobby were chanting exorcisms under their breaths as they shot and slashed their way backwards toward the protected cabin. Cas cleared their path by the expedient manner of tossing demons aside as if they were twigs.

Dean heard Sam’s quiet cry and turned in time to see his brother go down. “No!” he screamed as he blasted another demon with rock salt, then dropped to his knees to assess the damage. He hadn’t even gotten Sam’s shirt up when he heard Bobby cuss a blue streak. His eyes widened at Bobby lying on the ground, trying to drag himself toward the cabin.

“Crowley, you ass!” Bobby yelled as he thumped his own legs with the barrel of his gun.

Crowley, the ass, shrugged. “Sorry, mate, but your side is losing. All bets are off, so to speak.”

Dean hauled Sam to his feet as Cas shoved another demon out of his way. “Crowley, you made a deal! Give him his legs back.”

“Sorry, but that was a nicety on my part, which I no longer feel the need to continue. See you in Hell, Bobby.” And with that, Crowley vanished, leaving Dean with an unconscious Sam, a crippled Bobby and a steadily weakening angel.

They’d never make the cabin in time.

Dean heaved a breath and sat up, surprised not to feel the weight of Sam in his arms. Fuck, _Sam._ And Bobby. “You bastard!” he screamed, though Crowley wasn’t around anymore. _Nothing_ was around him, anymore. He was surrounded by white – white _everything_ , and began to panic. How did he end up in heaven again?

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas voice caused him to twist sideways and stare blankly at the angel. He sounded _pissed._

He scrambled to his feet but kept looking around him, a freakout beginning to form.“What’s going on, Cas? How did a comatose, a cripple, you and me escape all those demons?”

Cas looked extremely irritated and Dean took a step back. He hadn’t looked like that since – well, it had been a long time. “God is – planning, Dean. I regret that I cannot interfere, but you must endure until God is satisfied.”

He gaped. “Until _God_ is satisfied? With what? That She got the right ending?”

Cas clenched his jaw and began to fade into the whiteness. “Yes.”

=-=-=-=-=-=

Dean really hated his life. He and Bobby were pinned on the floor, Sam was pinned to the wall, and Cas was – well, it looked like he was floating above the ground by about six inches.  
  
Lucifer circled the dangling Cas and chuckled. “This is fun. I should have set Azazel’s plan into motion a millennia ago.”

“That was not God’s will,” Cas snarled, and Dean had to give the nerd-angel props; he was insane but he was brave. And a little sweaty, which surprised him. He’d never seen Cas sweat. The bead of water slowly trickling down the side of his face was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room.

Until fingers clicked in front of his face, drawing his attention back to Numero Uno, aka Lucifer.

While he stared at Dean, Lucifer addressed Cas. “Dad’s gone, Castiel. You’ve been told, haven’t you? Why do you insist on believing? It’s pointless.”

“Faith is never pointless,” Cas retaliated, and Dean had to admit, it was a lame comeback. Maybe his angel was getting tired. Hanging around for hours had to be wearing on a body, even if it was only a borrowed one.

A deep sigh drew Dean’s attention back to the Devil before him. “Dean, it’s like I’m not even here. Are you so distracted by Castiel’s presence that you can’t even focus on me for one tiny minute?”

Fearful of what Lucifer could do – would do – Dean locked gazes with him. “I’m all yours, Lucy.”

The fallen angel flinched. “Don’t _ever_ disrespect me with a nickname like you do my brother, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes widened in fear. Yeah, he remembered watching Lucifer tear into the Pagan gods. Literally, tear into them. He nodded slowly and kept his mouth shut, only relaxing slightly when Lucifer turned from him and addressed Sam.

“Now then, Sam, let’s talk.” Fingers clicked and Dean felt as though his skin was on fire. He tried to scream, but his voice failed him. He was back in Hell, heat and destruction all around him, and Cas was floating above an open flame, and Bobby was being put up on a rack...no, this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. They were still in the abandoned building. Sam had guzzled all the demon blood and they’d traipsed up the stairs like the _Dirty Dozen_ minus eight to face Lucifer.

Dean struggled to remember. He had to remember something because it was important. The entire world rested on his ability to pull a thought out of his ass, and the world was screwed. _No, no, no_ , he would remember. He stared across the sea of blood and body parts, he felt his flesh start to burn off, then his gaze fell on Cas, slowly turning like an angel on a sideways rotisserie. His eyes dragged down the much-abused trenchcoat and fixated on a mark on the hem of the sleeve, just above Cas’ wrist. It wasn’t a smudge, though. It had definition. It was – a trigger.

Eyes wide, Dean fought to free his not-really-burning-off limbs from the spell Lucifer had them under. The illusion was fraying at the edges and he could see Lucifer and Sam through the red haze, heads bent close as Lucifer whispered in his brother’s ear. Dean snarled, _realized_ he snarled and that his voice was back. Tilting his head back, he screamed the Enochian words that Death had so carefully prepped him on back in Chicago.

“Portal open to Hell  
Cast down he who was cast down  
Return to fire and flame  
Banished forever from Heaven  
In Gods name"

(for those following along in Enochian)

Portal open to Hell

Cast down he who was cast down

Return to fire and flame

Banished forever from Heaven

In Gods name

A quiet rumble began from a distance. Dean was released from his binding, as was Cas, who landed on his feet as though stepping down from a stair, the smug graceful bastard. Bobby rolled away from Lucifer who looked righteously pissed off.

Pressure squeezed his throat closed and Dean had nothing to fight against. Lucifer was focused on him, and it was a freaky Vader moment before Sam raised his own arm and repeated the Enochian chant directly at Lucifer.

“No, you can’t do this to me!” Lucifer cried, stomping his foot. “Because it's my time. My time! Up here!” he screamed to the sky.

Cas stood in front of Dean, looking perplexed. Of course he looked perplexed; Dean was fighting _nothing_ because it was a freaky Force thing. He dropped to the floor, barely managed to stop from falling on his ass, and Cas followed him down, growing more concerned the more Dean turned blue.

“ _Banish already_!” Sam huffed as he strained to control Lucifer’s movements.

Dean gave up trying to release the _nothing_ that was around his neck and remembered something else he was supposed to remember. He dug his hand into his jeans pocket and tossed the Horsemen’s rings beneath Lucifer.

A Portal to Hell opened right there beneath Lucifer’s feet, and Dean swore he heard, “What a world, what a world,” cried mournfully as Lucifer sank into the Portal.

The room was very still after that, until Dean took a huge breath and startled the crap out of everyone. He noted several things: he was practically in Cas’ lap; he was gripping the trenchcoat with both hands, and he was barely an inch away from Cas’ mouth. Which got closer and then was pressed against his.

He may have squawked. He may have moaned. But he would deny until his (final) dying day that he whined. Cas thoughtfully suggested _mewl_ , but that earned his lower lip being dragged through Dean’s teeth until _he_ mewled. Or whined. Or whatever.

A bright flash of light revealed God among them. At first, no one seemed to notice. Dean and Cas were lost in each other, while Sam looked faintly green (again) and Bobby just muttered about idjits and demanded Sam help him up off the floor because he was an old man and he’d only been walking again a few weeks.

Then the faintest, barest hint of a throat clearing blew out every broken window and shattered the glass on their watches.

All eyes went to God.

Cas was immediately on his feet and Dean almost banged his head on the floor at the loss of his pillow.

“Father, does this mean You are pleased?”

God smiled and nodded, and Cas actually _beamed,_ a smile more than when God had given him his grace back.

“Thank you.” Cas then tilted his head, staring intently at God, then glanced worriedly at Dean.

“What? Don’t I get forgiven? Don’t I get the nice weight off my shoulders?” Dean demanded, his (metaphorical) feathers ruffled.

“No, God is most gracious and has declared your part in the Apocalypse completed.” Cas shifted on his feet, something Dean had never seen him do. Not even in the brothel. “God wishes us to walk hand in hand into the sunset.”

Sam and Bobby burst into laughter at the same time.

Dean scowled. “Did you just say ‘hand in hand’?”

“It is God’s will,” Cas said helplessly.

Dean eyed the outstretched hand and grumbled under his breath. “Some Apocalypse this turned out to be.” With a long-suffering sigh, he clasped Cas’ hand and raised his eyebrows. “Okay, so where’s the –“ the room disappeared around him.

“Sunset,” Dean finished breathlessly as he stared over the expanse of the ocean, the huge orange sun dipping into the blue at the edge of the horizon.

Cas tugged on his arm and he stumbled as the ground shifted beneath him. Sand. Of course, they were on a beach. “Where are we?” he asked faintly.

Cas tilted his head in thought. “Santorini.”

Dean couldn’t have stopped his huge, idiotic smile if he had a gun to his head. “Awesome.”

He felt Cas grip his hand and he stopped them, turning to look at Cas. “What is it?”

Cas’ eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them, and that included the time in the brothel. He reached up and fingered his tie, which drew Dean’s curiosity.

In more ways than one. “Whatcha doing with that tie, Cas?” he murmured as he slid his hand further up the tie than Cas’, pulling him in for a kiss.

Cas pulled back and tried twice before he could speak. “God said – we should put the tie to good use.” He frowned as a flush crept up his neck. “I believe I understand what God intended, but…”

Oh, Dean had some ideas about what to do with that tie. He grinned and pulled Cas into his arms.

The smile was wiped off his face as Cas continued, sly as a fox, “I am not sure that ‘Impala’ is an appropriate safe word for you.”

The End


End file.
